The Journals of Rey Thais

The Journals of Rey Thais are commonly found scattered around Aetheral, where they are picked up and put down, and then lost once again. It is believed that Thais is "losing" these short writings on purpose to later be found. They are commonly described as pages on philosophy, as well as the internal thoughts of a man commonly lost in hysterics. There haven't been many found, assuming most of the writings have been destroyed from weathering, stolen and misplaced, or simply lost. It is believe that each location gives context to each piece, so it is important that it is understood where they were found.

There are six writings thus far that have been found by the IPCS. They have been published by the IPCS on the 30th of Second Fellnight of the year 630.

The World
[This book was found in the desert close to the jungle border. It is believed to be one of his "saner" writings despite the obvious reference to demons, curses, and a named "Fear."]

What is the world? What is the world around us? Fire, brimstone, hell above and below and surrounding and surrounding - I know it is. Or at least, it is for me, for the things I see in the corners bear no other name than Demon or Curse, for as the world around me shakes and shakes and the letters shake and shake I know what follows, for what follows me is this Curse of shadow and fear, turning the world around us into lava lakes and doom.

You cannot run from the Fear, you cannot hide from it, it chases like a wolf after a lamb - though do not be mistaken for in this world around us we find that even the lambs are not innocent, nor the children, nor the birds, especially not the women or men around us that burn and burn and burn.

Gods above save us from the fire, I beg, I beg of them. Do they answer?

Never.

Never do they answer.

Unblinking
[This book was found in an unnamed lighthouse within the Atheral Desert. This is certainly one of his more "mad" writings.]

Unblinking, we remain unblinking so we do not fall victim from what lies underneath our eyelids. Terror lies beneath us, within us, within our souls and minds.

We hope we never see that unmatched darkness as we close our eyes, though we can never sleep for those things that will catch up with us if we do.

They will draw closer, every time the eyes close for rest.

Do not let them catch us - the things that match our eyes unblinking.

The Many Mothers
[This one was found at the bottom of the Ardean Quarry. It is believed to be one of his sanest writings, written with a clear mind and clear conscious.]

They say that the darkness and crushing pressure of the mines brings a similar sort of comfort of being in utero, or at least that’s what the Dwarves tell me. They say the caves and endless mine shafts are the only home they know, that the darkness is as comforting as their mothers.

So who would be the true Mother then? Saria above? Or Darkness below?

What of the Mother of the Dark Elves, the High Elves, the Humans, the Orcs?

Do they each have a Mother? Is the Mother of all Elves the same? What of the Dark Elves who dwell within Darkness like the Dwarves? What of the High Elves who forsook their Mother for Magic?

What of the Orcs, born of another world, who live within the Jungles and Deserts deep, but shake their heads at the Moon Mother?

What of the Humans, who believe in a Mother of Light?

Is there one Mother for them all?

Or Many Mothers, above and below?

Many Mothers in the deepest depths, Mothers in the highest heights, Mothers in the Wood and Mothers in the sun.

I would say so. I believe in the Moon Mother and the Sun Mother and the Dark Mother, though the Mother of Darkness seems to be the one to bear me and my name.

Withering Heights
[This one was found in a large tree next to the Children of Saria Cultural Center within Ardea.]

What can be said for a beautiful view? Other than it is easy to fall from and for, and easy to destroy but not so easy to build.

Yes, yes, as I stand on one of Aetheral’s great trees and view it’s main city I consider something to myself, is a view only what you can see from it? Then, is a beautiful view defined by heights and the world your eyes find delight in?

Or is a view a matter of personal beauty and choice - choice that prefers the heights and the options that the tallness gives?

I would say that these heights make me dizzy and sick, ready to spin and fall from them.

I decay within the great leaves, turning brown as they do as the seasons shift. I am afraid of this view, of this one that allows me to see cities both large and small. I am afraid of the trees, and the mountains, and the rooftops, wishing only to remain firmly planted on the ground of which I belong.

The sight of such heights makes my spirit frail, for I know if I climb them and stay within them, I will almost certainly fall from them.

My Little Book of Dreams
[This one was found tucked away in the corner of the Leopold Square Market within Ardea, resting on a barrel.]

Book of Dreams, rather a book of nightmares and promises to the self. Though, for me, that is what dreams are.

We have our fears, yes, those that chase us well into the night, and our wants, that come out and play in the sun. So let me ask myself, what do I want? Since I certainly do not want to focus on the shadows I often see, nor the terror they give me, so, yes, what do I want?

Well, that, I do not quite yet know. Dreams  are a fickle thing, yes, for when we want something and get it, we no longer want it, or there are dreams in the world made only to be fleeting, and the more long-term, solid dreams must first be found if they do not hinge themselves on need.

Well then, what do I need? What every man does, I would assume. Food, water, shelter and a little bit of brandy for the spirits, yes (however my spirits remain in a constant state of unrest no matter what I feed them), though perhaps there is a bit more to the needs.

Perhaps a bit more brandy then, for those longer difficult nights where I stay awake for days and days and everything melts together, or a softer blanket for when I finally do sleep, or perhaps more paper to record my thoughts.

This list of Dreams is beginning to feel more like a shopping list, I’m afraid.

So, right then,


 * A Bit More Brandy (For Difficult Nights)
 * A Softer Blanket (For Good Ones)
 * More Paper (For The Nights Inbetween)

Collapse
[This one was found within the Palace Gardens, atop a table in one of the Gazebos. It is the last writing we have found (as of the 30th of Second Fellnight of the year 630) and is believed to be one of his most distressing of the six. It clearly references the Dragon Attack on Ardea and the burning down of the palace prior.]

The city burns, it burns brightly. As the walls collapse around us, towers crumble into dust and ash and embers. They burn like candle wicks in the dark, burn as their citizens scream into the night.

Spruce hides ash well, it does, it does, but the stone is blackened and marred from the event, the tidal wave of fire and smoke that comes from the demon’s maw, it burns, it burns, how brightly the trees burn.

The bodies are fuel, fuel to this horrible forever-fire, forever burning and burning and burning.

The bodies are smoking from inside, lava pouring from their mouths like blood, boiling.

The bodies boil and bubble and collapse,

Collapse into the dirt like the towers they made.